Wanting Shaw (Rockers' Legacy Book 5)

“I left,” I told her. “My date wanted to leave, and you taught me to always take care of the woman I’m with. It was my responsibility to make sure she got home safely.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I also trust you to take care of your cousins and keep them safe. Which is why I’m holding you responsible for what happened to Violet after you fucking left her and Shaw at that party, knowing Cannon was drunk and unstable.” She turned to go, calling over her shoulder, “You’re grounded until I say otherwise.”

“Wait!” I jumped out of bed and followed after her. “What happened to Violet?”

She stopped outside my room and glared at me. “Cannon hurt her.” She held up her phone again, and the picture that appeared had my stomach turning.

It was Violet, sitting on her bed at home with tears still rolling down her face. Her mouth looked swollen, bruised, and bleeding. “If you’d stayed like you should have, or at least gone back after taking your date home, this probably wouldn’t have happened.”

I took the phone from her, looking closer at my sweet little cousin. “Cannon did this to her?” I gritted out.

“That’s what she told Shane, and knowing Cannon, I believe her.” She snatched her phone back. “Dallas and Ax are on their way home from Tennessee as we speak to deal with that little shit. Now get back to your room before I decide you’re grounded until you’re thirty.”

She stomped down the stairs, and I waited until I heard the back door slam shut before I moved.

Turning, I walked back into my room. Grabbing my keys and wallet, I left my phone on the nightstand, knowing Ma would most likely track the damn thing to make sure I was still home.

Rage like I’d never felt before was rolling off me, making my hands shake as I jogged downstairs and out to the driveway. Mom’s SUV was already gone, and I figured she was on her way to Santa Monica to check on Violet.

Remembering the pain and fear in Vi’s eyes from that picture, I got behind the wheel and headed for Santa Monica again. If Cannon had been drinking, he wasn’t likely to go home, especially if he knew he was going to get in trouble for something. And unless he was completely out of it, he would sure as fuck know that what he’d done would get him killed. Knowing my best friend—now my ex-best friend—I knew where he would probably go, while everyone else would be searching for days without being able to find him.

Guilt ate at me the entire drive. I should have gone back in when I returned to the party. I should have dealt with Cannon then and there before taking Violet and Shaw home, or at least followed them home. The girls had been there because of me, and I should have made sure they were safe the entire time.

Instead, I’d left them there, thinking Cannon would take care of them. Like he should have done.

And what had he done?

Hurt Violet.

I was going to kill him.

As soon as I got my hands on him, he was dead. There would be no saving him. Any hope I might have held on to that we could at least be friends had turned to dust the second I’d seen what he’d done to Vi. I didn’t want a friend who could so easily hurt someone so sweet and innocent. All our lives, it was drilled into our heads that we took care of and protected the ones who mattered. No matter what.

I would have given my life for anyone in my family because I loved them. Now, I realized that Cannon wouldn’t do the same. As my sister said, he was an entitled asshole. He thought the world owed him something. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn’t care who got hurt in the process.

And I was going to show him that the world didn’t work like that.

I finally pulled into the parking lot of the park. I spotted his car before I even parked, so I knew he was there. That he’d driven there drunk only pissed me off more. Again, I was faced with just how selfish my one-time best friend actually was.

At the back of the park was a tree house our parents had helped build for the community when we were little more than eight. From the time it was completed, the two of us would come here. We had our own padlocks that we kept in our vehicles, and when we needed to hide from the world and just decompress, we’d come here and lock ourselves in. A few times in the last few years, I had snuck out of the house to come here and work on song material for hours.

Neither his parents nor mine knew we still came here, for which I was thankful. Because I didn’t want them to get to him before I did.

Climbing the ladder, I stepped onto the wraparound porch-like area outside the tree house. A shake of the door handle told me Cannon had used his padlock. Stepping back, I lifted my leg and kicked it three times before the door completely splintered open.

The light on his phone illuminated the inside, showing me that Cannon was in the far corner, sleeping off his drunken night. He’d left the flashlight on because he’d always hated being in the dark when he was drunk. He was so out of it, my breaking down the door hadn’t even roused him.

“You motherfucker,” I growled and grabbed him by his shirt.

The movement made him groan, and his eyes slowly lifted. “Jags?” He rasped my name then tried to swallow. Whatever had been his drink of choice earlier had apparently left him with cotton mouth.

He blinked a few times before his mind caught up to him, and then he paled. “Oh God. I think I fucked up. I—”

He didn’t finish because my fist to his face shut him up. “Yeah,” I told him as I punched him again. “You did.”

I hit him over and over again until both my hands were throbbing. I might have still been hitting him if strong arms hadn’t wrapped around my chest, locking my arms to my sides and pulling me off him.

“Let me go, man!” I struggled to get free, wanting to finish what I’d started.